Bruges Christmas Market

After reading Lonely Planet’s article about 5 great cities for Christmas markets and seeing Bruges listed as #3, FBF and I decided to pay the city a visit in December.

Wrapped in scarves and warm winter coats, we spent a lovely evening in the medieval city turned Christmas village.

The actual marché (market) part was a bit disappointing. There was only one small square with cabins selling objects, where there were also carnival type rides (bumper cars for Christmas?), and then there was the central square where most of the cabins were selling only food and drink.

The central square also hosted an ice skating rink with a beautiful view of the city’s bell tower. FBF doesn’t like ice-skating, so instead we spent our evening wandering the city’s many charming streets.

All the already beautiful buildings became a winter wonderland transformed by garlands, lights, and Christmas trees. It was magical.


A Christmas tree at la place Burg.


Some buildings with Christmas decorations at La Grand Place.


View of the canal and the bell tower, plus lovely Christmas lights.

To top it all off, we found a small hidden courtyard decorated with giant light up swans, Bruges' symbol.


Me kissing the light-up swan.

We had a lovely dinner in the city, and after a last look at all the Christmas splendor we headed back to Lille.

I don't think that it should be #3 for the market, but instead for a romantic place to soak up the spirit of Christmas, as I was swept off my feet by the magical decorations of an already beautiful city.

Mon Chien à Brugges

After enjoying delicious and strong Belgian beer at ‘T Brugs Beertje, FBF and I went out to do some more exploring. Since he was driving us home that night, we decided to have mid-afternoon beer so he’d be completely sober by the time we went home. There is something about day drinking that I think makes one more drunk without the ability to realize just how much effect the alcohol has had. I was in such a case.

My Barbar, while delicious and honey filled, was not only strong in flavor, but also alcohol content. My 33cl bottle contained 8% alcohol per volume. I was not alone in my enjoyment of a rather potent Belgian beer. FBF ordered a Malheur, which contains 10% alcohol per volume. Needless to say, we were feeling the effects of the alcohol, even if we thought we weren’t.


FBF's Malheur.

We were walking the streets enjoying the general splendor of ancient Belgian buildings, when I saw a man walking a dog. It wasn’t just any dog, however. It was a pug dog. My family has a pug, named Buster, and one of the things I missed from home was my dog. Naturally, I got excited to see another one of his kind walking about in Brugge.

Before I knew it, I had gotten out my camera and had started talking to the man.

“Excusez-moi monsieur? Est-ce que je peux prendre une photo de votre chien?” (Excuse me sir? Can I take a picture of your dog?) I asked.

“Oui! Biensûr,” (Yes! Of course) he replied.

“Oh merci! J’ai un chien comme ça aussi chez moi, et il me manqué trop! Ils sont trop mimis les chiens comme ça!” (Oh thank you! I have a dog like this one at my house and I miss him! Dogs like them are really adorable!)

Like all good pugs, this one was a poser as well, and looked at me ready for his picture to be taken. I took the picture, thanked the man again, and was suddenly surprised at the ease of which French had fallen out of my mouth to grant me permission to take a picture of a French Belgian pug dog.

Les Deux Chiens: Buster and his Belgian cousin!

My new Belgian friend.


Buster!! The cutest pug in the world!! (Apparently the first picture wasn't cute enough)


I’d like to thank liquid courage, as well as Buster, for giving me the opportunity to speak French to strangers and making me feel French, even if I happened to be in Belgium at the time.

In Bruges

Despite being told repeatedly by Colin Farrell that Bruges is a shitty place to be while watching In Bruges, I felt like I should pay the Belgian town a visit. Since I arrived in the Nord, everyone here has told me that Bruges is the Venice of the North. Because Belgium is a hop, skip, and a jump away, FBF and I decided to take the 45 minute drive and enjoy one of Europe's best preserved medieval towns.

Yet again I enjoyed better weather while traveling to somewhere further north than I usually experience in Lille. Why is it always so grey and rainy in the Nord-Pas-De-Calais?


Interesting medieval Belgian architecture and blue sky!

Upon arrival, we found the tourist information center and picked ourselves up a map. The use-it.be free map had this to say in it's 5 minutes of history section,
"2009: The movie 'In Bruges' wins an award for best scenario. Quote: 'If I grew up on a farm, and was retarded, Bruges might impress me. But I didn't, so it doesn't.' So just like in 1892, somebody calls Bruges a shithole, which attracts only more tourists."


The bell tower from the movie.

Not only were we in a beautiful city, but we were in Belgium! This quickly translated into the fact that delicious, cheap Belgian beer needed to be drunk stat! We found a bar with practically every single Belgian beer immaginable, called 'T Brugs Beertje.

We walked in and I was immediately intimidated. There was the barkeep, an old couple, and a middle-aged man in the bar.

They were all speaking Flemish.

Half of Belgium speaks Flemish, and the other half speaks French. On the drive up to Bruges, FBF scared me out of speaking French, as the Flemish speaking part of Belgium apparently hates the French speaking side. I said,"hello," and quickly retreated to the second room in the bar.

Both rooms were covered from head to toe in beer advertisements, and the bar had a million different types of glasses on display to go with its million different beers. Before sitting down, I decided to be courageous, and we took a seat at a table in the room with all the Flemish speakers.

When the bartender came over to take our order, I stuck with English, but FBF ordered in French. I think we confused the man a little bit, but luckily he got our orders right. I ordered a Barbar, which was delicious. It had a touch of honey in it.


Such Belgian-y goodness!

According to our handydandy use-it.be map/travel guide, I knew that in Bruges one days not say "santé!" for cheers like the rest of Belgium, but instead "up je mulle!" This translates into "on your face!"

Not having any clue how to pronounce "up je mulle" in Flemish, I asked the bartender if he could pronounce it for us. He read the word I was pointing at, laughed, and said it out loud. He then said, "Don't go around saying that, though! It's what you say between good friends, but if you say it to a stranger it's really offensive. I said it to a guy once in a bar, and he punched me in the face."